


Pride Comes Before the Fall

by RhetoricFemme



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Budding Romance, Carnivals, Fear of Rollercoasters, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:08:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21960685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhetoricFemme/pseuds/RhetoricFemme
Summary: Marco shrugs. “Will you be around the carnival at all?”“Probably.” Jean doesn’t sound too thrilled at all. He grimaces at Marco, is already walking backward toward the exit. “You won’t be catching me on any rides, though. Not if my life depended on it.”“But it sounds like I might be seeing you around, then?”“Oh.” Jean brightens. “You’ll be seeing me around again.”
Relationships: Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15
Collections: JeanMarco Gift Exchange 2019





	Pride Comes Before the Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HedonistInk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedonistInk/gifts).



> **Merry Christmas,[HedonistInk](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/HedonistInk)!!! I hope you enjoy this little story. It was such a great prompt to work with. :)**

The bar isn’t the first time Marco has seen Jean Kirschstein around. It isn’t the first time that cock-eyed grin has turned Marco’s head, or that oh so subtle swagger to Jean’s gait has stolen the entirety of Marco’s attention. No, those instances belong to various routes along the campus that up until a few weeks ago they used to share. The college from which Marco had just recently matriculated, and which Jean had only transferred to a mere semester beforehand.

The bar, however, is the first time Marco has been graced by the sound of Jean’s voice. When Jean speaks, it’s as playful and haughty as he would have expected it to be. Marco is only half surprised at how fond he is of it.

But it’s when Jean gets pushed up onto the karaoke stage that Marco really starts to listen.

Jean’s wearing that grin, his arms crossed while he glances down at the group of friends who’d shoved him up there. Marco’s seen them around, too, and is in fact also friends with one or two of them.

Someone yells out Brittney Spears. Jean shrugs, tells them he’s game, but the group has yet to make up their mind. It takes another half a minute of serious deliberation before they choose what they want Jean to sing, and he takes it perfectly in stride.

“Jewel?” He nods confidently. “You think I can’t do _Foolish Games_?!”

Four minutes later, and Jean has turned the heads of half the bar. And while he clearly doesn’t have performance issues, he also looks eager to hand off the mic and step down.

It has occasionally been said by those close to Marco Bodt, that he can occasionally err on the side of the dramatic. Marco never felt the need to argue with that assessment, honestly. But after hearing that voice, Marco wholeheartedly believes he will never be the same again. He’ll tell anyone all about it. Let them call him dramatic. He’s not about to deny it.

Imagine Marco’s shock when Jean proceeds to stride over to the bar. He’s heading right toward Marco, albeit looking slightly to the left where the bartender has a smile on her face, is waiting for Jean an ice cold bottle of craft beer.

He tries to hand her money, but is declined.

“Sasha…” Jean make a noble plea. “Lemme pay.”

She shakes her head, pops the top and hands the beer to Jean. “You just sang Jewel’s song better than Jewel could have, so it’s on me.”

Well then. Jean isn’t about to deprive someone of an act of generosity, and makes sure to nod appreciatively when he starts to drink it. Marco doesn’t miss the fact that Sasha winks at him before walking away.

“You know Sash?” Jean asks. Marco isn’t expecting to be spoken to, and it takes and a sweet little laugh and an elbow to his ribs. “I’ve seen you at school before. You just finished.”

Jean is holding a hand out, and offering his congratulations. Warm, slender hands with calluses on the pads of his fingers that Marco immediately wants to know more about. Something gleams just on the other side of Jean’s tee shirt, and Marco has to force his eyes upward.

He thanks Jean for the sentiment, asks why he’s only started seeing Jean so recently.

As it turns out, Jean is a cellist. Trost is home, and while he always knew he’d come back for U of T, he wasn’t about to pass up the invitation to travel with an international orchestra, first.

“You didn’t answer my question, though.” Jean raises a playful brow. “Are you friends with Sasha, too?”

Marco nods. “She’s in my polysci program. Was? I guess it’s hers, now. No longer mine…”

He’s rambling. Jean can't help but smile. “You graduated summa cum laude?”

“How’d you know that?”

“I’m friends with Sasha.”

It’s all the conversation they’re destined to have. At least on this night. Jean’s friends have moved from the karaoke stage to the exit, are making a scene that isn’t likely to stop until he comes along. Marco recognizes Armin and Eren, and throws them a wave. It is with absolute regret on both of their behalves that he stands to go.

“What’re you up to right now?” Jean asks. “Come with.”

Marco’s mouth twists with regret when he shakes his head. “I’m actually meeting someone at the coffee shop down the street soon. I’m working that carnival that’s in town this month, and long story short there was a shift switch so that I could tutor someone desperate enough to take my help at ten o’clock at night.”

“Wow.” Jean blinks owlishly. “No rest for the weary, huh?”

Marco shrugs. “Will you be around the carnival at all?”

“Probably.” Jean doesn’t sound too thrilled at all. He grimaces at Marco, is already walking backward toward the exit. “You won’t be catching me on any rides, though. Not if my life depended on it.”

“But it sounds like I might be seeing you around, then?”

“Oh.” Jean brightens. “You’ll be seeing me around again.”

For the moment, that was all Marco needed to know. He bids Jean a goodnight, and before long moves along to his next stop. Marco prays the coffee isn’t sludge and that he won’t be needing so much that it keeps him up the rest of the night.

* * *

Two weeks remain of this grandiose carnival. Some epic pop-up amusement park that only comes through once every five years and takes up the entirety of Trost County’s fairgrounds for three whole weeks.

All Marco has to do is show up and man various games and rides, and pretend he doesn’t occasionally have to see the baser side of humanity. At the end of that three weeks is the start of the job he’s been waiting to finally open up—his position as a paralegal for a lawyer named Levi Ackerman.

In the meantime it’s all about corndogs and elephant ears, parents spending fifty dollars to win plushies worth five, and lovers waiting in line together for ferris wheels and rollercoasters.

And of course, Jean is occasionally there.

Marco has the good fortune see him several times, actually. He comes through a few times with Sasha, once or twice with that initial group of friends Marco had seen him with at the bar.

Each visit, Jean finds a pocket of time to visit Marco, though the nature of his job doesn’t allow for Jean to really stay.

Nor does Jean want to.

Marco won’t soon forget the afternoon he’d been in charge of The Titan. A triple loop rollercoaster that takes its passengers both forward and backward, it’s the sort of thing either nightmares or dreams are made of.

Jean wants nothing to do with it.

And yet, he and Sasha approach Marco at his station on the afternoon that he is in charge of it. The heat that day is criminal, and they come armed with a soda is more accurately described as being in a bucket rather than a cup.

“Heyo!” Sasha pulls Marco into a hug, then hands him the drink. “I’m handing you this because Jean thinks it’ll look like I got it for you. But I think all of us here know the truth.”

It doesn’t matter that Jean is currently wearing sunglasses, or that he maintains an impressive poker face. His posture is full of ire, and when he tells Sasha they aren’t friends anymore, she simply gives him a kiss and walks away.

There’s little time for awkward banter, as two-hundred-and-sixty feet up, The Titan’s passengers are screaming out of some dubious combination of excitement and fear.

“Alright.” Jean chirps. “And with that, I’ll be on my way.”

Marco doesn’t blame him.

“Hey!” He calls out, feels like the luckiest man in the world when Jean turns around. “I’m done early tomorrow.”

If nothing else at this wretched fairground, this is enough to get Jean to smile. “Good. You can buy me an elephant ear!”

* * *

Marco’s shift ends in the late morning, and the moment he steps out of the employee trailer Sasha and Jean are already waiting for him. They’re in the middle of a heated conversation. Sasha is adamant that Jean should consider pocketing his phone and never taking it back out again.

“A bet’s a bet, Sash.” He mutters. “And if Eren’s rugby club wins?”

Sasha ignores Jean in favor of greeting Marco. She envelops him in a hug, catches him up on Jean and Eren’s bet and smirks when Marco sides with her.

“I wouldn’t, man.” Marco says earnestly. “Eren knows you don’t like rides. Make him choose something else if you lose the best.”

“No negotiations.” Jean mutters something else about The Titan, then leads the three of them away. He moves them toward balloon darts and water cannons, looking for nothing more than to stay on this side of the carnival.

It can be difficult to describe the hidden allure that causes folks to remain at carnivals or fairs long after the thing has outstayed its welcome. As if something new might pop up, or some exciting new discovery has yet to be made. Tonight that happens to be a last minute concert that had been added to the carnival’s entertainment roster.

Marco knows damn well what he’s doing three hours into his free time at the carnival he works for. He gets Jean that elephant ear. Hits enough darts to win Sasha a prize, only to have her pick out the most unattractive stuffed animal in the entire tent. She claims no one else is going to love it, and therefore Marco has done something good in the world. He’s still thinking about how that evening concert on the lawn might go down.

Marco isn’t quite paying attention when the rest of their friends manage to locate them, and suddenly their party of three is a group of seven. That’s not to say he loses Jeans attention. Far from it. But there is the unfortunate fact that Marco has gone from figuring out the right moment to put an arm around Jean’s waist, to monitoring the anxiety he displays any time he looks at Eren.

It’s early evening when the numbers are in. Eren’s phone dings, and he lets out an obnoxious whoop while patting Jean on the back.

“Pick something else, Eren.” Sasha warns. “Don’t be a dick.”

Eren just shrugs. “Jean’s an adult. He can make his own decisions. And if he doesn’t want to honor the bet, then I can’t force him to honor it. Now can I?”

Marco isn’t fond of Eren’s carefully chosen language.

“It’s whatever.” Jean mutters. “Let’s just get to hillside, and pick a decent patch of grass before the concert starts.”

And so that’s what they do. The music has already started, there’s laughter and conversation all around them as they spread all of their blankets out. Several minutes into sitting down, no one thinks twice of it when Jean excuses himself in search of the restrooms. It’s only when he’s been gone for a nearly half an hour that his name is brought up.

Marco curses, his body standing before his mind has caught up with it. “He didn’t…”

“Didn’t what?” Eren asks, still focused on the band playing on stage.

“He’s been gone forever!” Marco yells at him. “He’s not in the bathroom, he’s in line for that damn ride!”

Sasha stands, poised to follow Marco. “At this point he might already be on it.”

The two of them make haste for the rollercoaster, trying not to shove anyone out of the way while scanning the crowds for Jean. Eren isn’t too far behind, is trying to tell them that if Jean does happen to be on The Titan, it honestly isn’t that bad.

They ignore him, keep moving until they’re standing close enough to glance up at the passengers on the ride.

The rollercoaster has only recently taken off with its current load of thrill-seekers, and sure enough Jean is seated in the front car.

Marco keeps his focus trained on Jean as The Titan takes one loop after another. His eyes are closed, fists clenched in a white knuckled grip on the safety bar. Marco can’t be sure, but he thinks Jean might just be talking to himself up there. Pleading with the fear roiling in his chest, and whatever higher power out there will help to ensure he disembarks this ride in one piece.

He watches as The Titan reaches its peak, stilling for several intense seconds before taking its passengers around the track again. Jean refuses to open his eyes, looks every bit a statue from his seat at the front of the rollercoaster. Marco watches as the ride starts to move again, and his heart lilts when Jean’s hair flutters as this time they go backward.

Eren is watching, too, his hand covering his mouth in order to hide the incredulous grin on his face. He’s in the middle of telling someone he can’t believe Jean did it, when he suddenly finds Marco taking up his space.

“You think it’s _funny?_ ”

While no one has ever taken Marco for being meek, nor would most people take him as confrontational, either. Eren’s eyes are wide when he meets Marco’s gaze. All of the mirth, the light-hearted banter and feel good vibes from earlier have been replaced not just by disappointment, but anger and concern.

Eren shakes his head cautiously and shrugs. “I…”

“No.” Marco cuts him off. “You knew. Said it yourself that you two have known each other for years, so don’t tell me you had no clue it’d end up like this!”

“Marco…” He tries again. “I’m sor—“

“You were watching your phone all day, just waiting for him to lose that bet! And for what?”

Just then, The Titan rolls itself onto the end of the tracks. The ride is finished, and with it goes Eren’s chance at salvaging the moment or offering an explanation. Marco is already off to meet Jean, is flagging down his coworker to let him come through the gate.

He’s waiting when Jean climbs off the ride, tries to get his attention, but Jean just shakes his head and calmly walks away.

He’s rigid and pale.

Marco follows far enough behind to give him space. When he sees Eren trying to catch up with him, Marco turns around, gives him a look that stops Eren in his tracks.

Jean stops at a park bench, sits with his hands between his knees while his feet bounce with such intensity. He gives a nervous laugh when he finds Marco standing beside him, and apologizes.

“Nah.” Marco sits down beside him. “S’gonna be fine.”

“I know.” Jean answers, though the tremble in his voice is undeniable. Marco gives him another minute or two, then decides he can’t just sit here while Jean goes through this alone.

He takes a chance on all that good energy they’ve been building, slips Jean’s hands into his own. “Hey. We’re calming down now, alright?”

Jean gives a hasty nod, and Marco says it again, tells Jean to look at him.

“You’ve got this, Jean.”

A few moments later, and Jean finally starts to loosen up.

“So the deal is,” Jean exhales, gives a laugh that Marco swears is full of self-deprecation. “You remember those horror movies where the characters cheat death, but it finds gory ways to get them?”

“Sure.”

“Well.” Jean bites down on a nervous smile. “I was like eight when my older brother had a movie night, and they watched one of them. I obviously wasn’t allowed to, but that didn’t stop me from hiding in the foyer and peeking into the other room.”

Marco cringes. “Oh no…”

“Yeah. The rollercoaster scene… horrified me. But I was a little shit back then, just like I am now, and I stole the DVD so I could watch it again. I watched it over and over to prove to myself that it wasn’t so bad, but it just kept getting worse?”

It isn’t planned when Marco’s arm wraps around Jean’s shoulders, but nor does Jean object to it.

“Then what happened?” He asks.

“My parents found the movie hiding in my room.” Jean scoffs, shakes his head. “They finally had an answer for why I couldn’t stop having nightmares, so I guess there’s that. Stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.” Marco says easily. He rubs Jean’s arm affectionately, thinks of all the ridiculous stuff he’s done that he could tell Jean about. Marco hopes he gets the chance to. “Just let me know when you’re ready to walk back.”

It takes several more minutes of quiet snuggling on the bench. It’s comforting, to be sure, but it’s also a wordless opportunity to keep getting to know one another. When they finally make their way back toward the lawn, but with no intention of meeting up with anyone else this time.

“You feeling any better?” Marco asks.

It takes Jean a moment to look up, though he finally does, and with contentment in his eyes. “Yeah. I think so.”

He extends his hand just enough for it to be noticed. Spreads his fingers, and experiences sweet relief when Marco threads their fingers together. Their fingers remain loosely linked while Marco’s thumb runs soothing circles across Jean’s hand.

This time, Jean’s heartrate picks up for all the right reasons.


End file.
